


progress.

by orphan_account



Category: Tales from the Borderlands - Fandom
Genre: Dealing With Trauma, Dreams and Nightmares, Gaslighting, Hurt/Comfort, Minor Violence, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Psychological Trauma, Self-Doubt, Triggers, self care? in THIS economy?, vent time babey
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-23
Updated: 2019-08-04
Packaged: 2020-07-12 08:23:36
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 2,593
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19943116
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: A series of drabbles that I use to vent, since I latch onto basically any psychologically or emotionally abused character. Expect no clear plot, nor long chapters.





	1. Chapter 1

Vaughn has woken up to sobbing four times this week.

And honestly, that’s progress.

When he first started sharing a bed with Rhys, he woke up to screaming every night. Which then changed to every other night. Which then turned to sobbing fits every night. Which is better than screaming.

When he turns over, Rhys is curled up on the other side of the ratty mattress they sleep on, against the wall. He’s shaking, his arms and legs pressed up into his chest.

“Hey.”

He flinches, raising his head. When he turns around, his echo eye catches the light of the moon outside, and Vaughn knows he’s being scanned. It’s always a little...uncomfortable, knowing Rhys feels the need to scan him.

He never did…... _ before. _

“......Hey there,” He finally replies, rubbing his face with his hands. He hisses when cold metal meets his skin, almost like he forgot, before giving Vaughn a strained smile.

“What’s wrong?” Vaughn moves his hands out of the way so he can press a hand against his cheek. Rhys leans into his touch, but his eyes dart away.

“Ahhhh, nothing, really,” He blows air out of the side of his mouth. “Bad dream. I guess.”

“Do you want to talk about it?”

“Ehhhhhh-”

“I want to talk about it.”

Rhys rolls his eyes and gives Vaughn a hard look, and he feels sort of bad for thinking of how pretty he is. Sort of.

“Y’know, I feel like that’s not fair.  _ I  _ don’t want to talk about it. You don’t run this, you know? It’s my dream."

Vaughn raises his eyebrows.

“Ugh. Fine. I don't know," Rhys rubs his forehead. "The usual shit. He was there. He….fucked with me. The end."

"Fucked with you how?"

"Oh, I don't know, some nice dream torture?" 

Vaughn purses his lips. "I….you don't wanna talk. I get it."

"Yeah. I don't."

They lay there for a moment before Vaughn pulls him closer, and Rhys lets out a relieved sigh. He has to shimmy down to put his head against Vaughn's shoulder, and his feet dangle out from under their thin blanket. Vaughn nuzzles his face into the top of his head. Rhys is still sniffling.

"Why'd you scan me?"

Rhys deflates. "Bro, c'mon-"

"No, I wanna know. Why? Did I do something? If you feel like you can't trust me, I wanna know, so we can fix it."

Rhys pushes him away and turns back over. "Stop being so fucking nice. Seriously. It's annoying as hell. Aren't you supposed to be a bandit?"

Vaughn lets out a startled laugh, reaching out to touch Rhys' shoulder. His laugh stops abruptly when Rhys violently flinches away from his touch. 

"Rhys…?"

"I-" He refuses to turn around, and his breathing goes from those gentle post-cry sniffs to borderline hyperventilation. "Don't touch me.  _ Don't _ touch me."

"Okay. I won't."

"Stop that! Stop it! It's fucking weird!"

"Rhys, what are you talking about?"

"Stop being...good _! _ That's not….it's…" He begins to cry, again, "It's not, it's not…"

"Rhys. Rhys, are you okay?"

"Do I fucking  _ seem  _ okay?!" He screams, suddenly turning around and sitting up. Vaughn sits with him, every bone in his body having to hold him back from holding him.

"Hey...deep breaths, okay?"

Rhys stares at him.

And slaps him across the face.

It's sudden. Just, he's looking at him, then there's stinging across his cheek and Rhys' flesh hand trembles in front of him.

"What….the…. _ fuck, _ dude?!" 

Rhys is red in the face, and grabs Vaughn's hand. "Hit me back."

"What?!"

"Just fucking hit me! Hit me back!"

"I-no! Absolutely not! Why did you fucking slap me?"

_ "HIT ME BACK!" _

_ "WHAT THE FUCK IS WRONG WITH YOU?!" _

He crumbles, his sobbing returning with the same gusto, pressing Vaughn's hand against his forehead.

"Dude."

"Hold me, hold me, hold me-"

And Vaughn does, because of course he does, wrapping his arms around the trembling man in front of him. 

"He said- he said - hesaidhesaidhesaid-"

"Who said?"

And Rhys won't say it, so he knows who said, and he runs a hand through his hair, which is hard because he has to reach up to do it. 

"....He said you were just gonna betray me. K-kill me, eventually, because nobody would ever be that good to me without...a motive." 

Vaughn runs it over in his head. "So you'd listen to a dead maniac in your nightmare over me?"

"I….."

"Listen. He's not real. He's not."

"I know."

"Ja…..the version you met wasn't even real. Just a copy. He was already dead."

"I know."

"Did you know one of the people who killed him was a highschooler? Like, an entire teenager?"

Rhys laughed through his sobs. "Yeah, I know."

"Not to mention….I would….never hurt you. Not on purpose, and hopefully not at all. I…"

"I love you."

"I love you too."

Vaughn keeps holding him, rubbing his back as he sobs.

"Did I hurt you?"

"Oh, no," Vaughn snorts. "Maybe if you had used the other hand, but that barely hurt."

"I can't believe….I'm sorry, I'm so fucking stupid."

"Hey, it's cool. I'm not mad."

"You probably should be."

"Probably."

Rhys scoffs and smacks at his arm, but he's not crying.

And that's progress.


	2. waking.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> it's really hard to accept that your trauma happened, and that you're allowed to be traumatized to begin with.

He was still in Rhys' head.

Figuratively, of course.

Physically, shortly after defeating the traveler, Rhys and the others had made the trek down to the remnants of Jack's office. They had searched the rubble for the drive and allowed him to stomp it to pieces, then threw it into the desert. They'd unfastened his old arm from where it was stuck, thrown it into the air, and shot it out of the sky, over and over, until it was just wires and scraps. Vaughn had found two conference calls in the back rooms, offering one to Rhys and one to Sasha. It was like fireworks.

It didn't make Rhys feel any better.

At first, he had his own space. A salvaged burnt mattress and blanket, a flickering lamp, and a closet with doors that didn't close. Sasha and Vaughn had helped him set up a place to charge his arm from the stuff from the Atlas buildings. 

And it was fine, for a moment.

Before he woke up, screaming and sobbing, convinced  _ he _ was still there. The nightmare didn't add up to much, just hands gripping his throat and spit on his face, and he thought,  _ hoped _ ,  _ prayed _ it was a one time thing.

It happened again.

And again.

And again again again again.

The fourth dream he started talking, assuring Rhys he had not forgotten his promise. He would get him when he least expected it, but  _ now,  _ he'd get them all. Vaughn, Fiona, Sasha, Yvette. He'd even go for LB and Gortys, all at Rhys' hands, before taking him out himself. He stopped sleeping after that.

Of course, the deprivation just made things worse. He’d see a flash of blue and jump. Anybody could lay a hand on his arm and he’d flinch.

One time Yvette called him a dummy. That wasn’t even something she usually said. She was saying whatever, and then she called him a dummy. Something about censoring herself for Gortys. Then she asked Rhys why he was breathing so hard, and he excused himself to vomit.

And for what it was worth, he tried so hard to ignore it, reminding himself others had suffered more - people had  _ died _ for god’s sake. Rhys had heard the truth about the daughter from one of Fiona’s vault hunter friends. He couldn’t compare to her pain. He had no right to be such a little bitch about this. He had just been called stupid for a few days. And almost died. But it was still an almost. He got out alive, and so many others had not had that mercy. He was overreacting, he had to be.

He was overreacting.

It wasn’t that bad.

He should get over it.

_ He should just get the fuck over it, already. _

  
  
  


He fainted after about two and a half days without sleeping.

He was only down for less than a minute, not a big deal, really, but everyone was losing their shit over it. Especially Vaughn, because of course he was. He tracked down whoever on the medical staff had survived and literally got people to block off the exits.

With what limited resources they had, they were able to confirm the cause of his blackout was exhaustion and hunger. He scoffed at that. He ate fine. He just wasn’t super hungry lately, but he ate anyway. Even if he’d taken to stress-puking, or whatever they called it.

“What are you gonna do?” Rhys sounded incredulous at Vaughn’s concerned look. “Stage some sort of intervention? I’m a grown ass man.”

  
  
  


So Vaughn staged an intervention.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> a character: *is manipulated*  
> me, in my best gaige voice, while projecting my trauma: ill take GOOD care of you....


	3. ruination.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> When you love someone, it’s even harder to help them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this is by far the most ooc chapter but its also the one i actually wrote when i was very upset so theres that.

Vaughn really should have noticed something was wrong earlier.

After the Traveler, Fiona and Rhys had this unspoken...bond. It almost extended to LB, if it weren't for the week the two spent alone together after vanishing into it. They knew everything that had happened.  _ Everything. _

It was Fiona's idea to destroy Rhys' old cybernetics. After they had reduced them to near nonexistence, Vaughn caught sight of them standing at the edge, Fiona's hand gently rubbing his shoulder.

And he wasn't jealous for romantic reasons, no.

Fiona wasn't into guys, and he knew that. He was secure in being with Rhys, especially after he ran up to him and kissed him so hard he stumbled after the vault. But for the first time in a long time, he was not the first one his bro came to for help.

And he knew it was selfish, but it hurt.

He didn't push the issue, not until the fainting. It was terrifying, just seeing him collapse. Every second he was down felt like an eternity.

Afterwards, when Rhys finally passed out on one of the old waiting room couches, Vaughn turned to Fiona.

"Tell me  _ everything. _ "

And so she did.

Most of it, Vaughn knew. He was the first person who knew Jack was in Rhys' head, and obviously he had been briefed on the events of Helios from both his clan and the others. 

But other things were new.

Obviously, Fiona didn't have all the details, but she could recall what Rhys had told her about the things that happened in that office, and the way that asshole had threatened not only Rhys, but them, and the events that unfolded before he finally died for  _ good. _

Vaughn thought he might throw up.

Rhys had never mentioned that to anyone. No speaking of the choking or….anything like that. Rhys, who was, to put it nicely, a huge fan of attention.

And that meant this was bad.

  
  
  


He didn't stage an intervention. All he did was ask Rhys to talk to him.

Rhys said no.

So Vaughn asked again.

Rhys said no.

And he kept on saying no.

And the third day, it was a problem.

Rhys had moved into his room shortly after his...incident. After another night of restless sleep interrupted by nightmares, Vaughn woke up to Rhys sitting on the edge of their bed. 

“Hey, beautiful,” He reached forward and touched the back of his elbow. The taller man looked up and back to him.

“‘Beautiful’?” He snorted. “We doing pet names now?”

“I guess. I just wanted to call you beautiful.”

He smiled at him, the sunlight filtering through the window onto his face. Vaughn sat up and kissed him.

Rhys responded enthusiastically, and grinned like an idiot when he pulled away to breathe. “Careful, or I’ll think you’re into me or something.”

“I am like,  _ so _ into you, Rhys.”

“Well, that’s cool, because I think you’re pretty great yourself.”

Vaughn played with an errant piece of Rhys’ hair. Ungelled, it fell behind his ears in wavy strands, curling around the edges of his face. He looked gorgeous all the time, but this was a side of his beauty only Vaughn got privileges to, and he relished in it.

But he had to ruin it.

“I still want to talk about Jack.”

Rhys flinched back from him, face contorting from it’s peaceful grin to that of a scared child.

“Stop that. Don’t say that. Don’t...Don’t  _ touch  _ me and say that.”

“Say what?”

“You fucking know what,” Rhys spat. Actually  _ spat.  _

“You need to talk to me. If I don’t know what happened, I can’t help you.”

“Who said I asked for help-!”

“I...I don’t care! I want to help you! Because I love you!”

“I don’t need help, Vaughn. I need...I need to get over it.”

“What are you talking about?” 

“It’s not some big thing. It’s me being a little bitch.”

“Rhys...if something happened to you, and it hurt you, you’re…you’re totally  _ allowed  _ to feel upset.”

“Shut uppppp,” Rhys rubbed his face. “You don’t get it.”

“Listen, sweetheart. I  _ do  _ get it. Jack-”

“STOP FUCKING SAYING THAT!”

When he lifted his hands to scream at Vaughn, tears were streaming down his face.

“Stop saying that,” Rhys whispered it, like he was daring to say it. “Stop saying that, and stop calling me sweetheart, and for the love of god, stop acting like you get it.”

Vaughn tentatively reached out a hand, and Rhys leaned into it. He reached back to rub Rhys’ shoulder, and didn’t say anything more.

  
  
  
  


The next day, he sent a fake message to Rhys’ email about important business. Rhys practically skidded into the old conference room, but stopped dead in his tracks when he saw Vaughn and the sisters. He turned to leave, only to be greeted by LB and a disgruntled August (who was getting a bit of scratch for doing this. He probably would find some reason he actually “didn’t need it” while keeping up his angry facade.)

Rhys turned on his heel, glaring at Vaughn. “Why the fuck did you trick me into coming here? What are you playing at?”

Vaughn tensed. Behind him, Sasha put a hand on his shoulder.

“We’re all worried about you,” Fiona interjected, stepping forward. “You  _ fainted  _ last week. You gotta tell us what’s going on with you.”

“Oh my god,” Rhys snorted. “This  _ is  _ an intervention! God, fuck you guys. Did you pay August to serve as your bodyguard? Hey, dude, I’ll double that if you let me leave.” 

August just gave him a cold stare.

“Okay, fine, whatever. Here’s the deal,” Rhys jabbed his finger at them. “I don’t have to tell you shit. I’m a grown ass man.”

“Oh, really?” Sasha scoffed. “For a  _ grown ass man _ , you sure are being an absolute goddamn child. Does wittle Rhysie need his bottle before he talks to us?”

And with that, all of his bravado fell away. Rhys’ face fell, and he dropped his arm back to his side before wrapping them around himself, beginning to shake.

“Don’t call me that. Do...don’t call me that.”

“A child?” Sasha frowned. “Are...are you okay?” She stood, walking tentatively in Rhys’s direction. Vaughn and Fiona exchanged a glance and followed.

Rhys sank to his knees. Behind him, August began to shuffle nervously in place, before mumbling something and exiting the room. LB just stared down at Rhys, about as concerned as a faceless robot could look. 

Vaughn kneeled in front of his….boyfriend? Best friend? Whatever. He tilted his head. “Rhys, are you okay?”

“...No,” Rhys sniffled. “No, I don’t think I am.”

And that was progress.

**Author's Note:**

> im trustfiona on tumblr if you think im cool n wanna talk abt gayperion (hjack apologists dni tho i WILL bury you alive for looking at me if you like him)


End file.
